Cranky

Hello and welcome to a windy Saturday here at the Wannaskan Almanac. Today is March 16th.

We've successfully side-stepped the Ides of March, but good grief! We're already halfway through March?! Last Sunday, daylight savings took an hour from our sleep. I chalked up my exhaustion to the time shift only to discover toward the end of the week that I'd developed a cold. Illness makes me incredibly irritable which makes for the perfect storm of glass-half-empty thinking. So here we go.

Mid-March is that waiting space between winter and spring. Today is the perfect example. Unbelievably windy - and not a promising scent of earth warming kind of wind. No, this wind is icy and bites at the skin, reminding you to keep wearing your stocking cap, choppers, and parka; something the children have not been good about during this unusually warm winter we're in/just had.

"Stupid is as stupid does," by Forrest Gump comes to mind lately, especially in the context of said actions. And don't even get me started on winter boots. "But, Mom! We don't even have recess anymore!" shouts the Sixth Grader who steps out into slushy glop in her new white and light pink Converse. "I'm only walking to and from the bus!" This, as she painstakingly steps through the minefield of refrozen patches of ice, snow, and puddles on the driveway out to the dirt road that is now spongey with icy bloating and saturation.

Looking out the window, I see snowflakes lolling in the wind. Not enough to accumulate, but enough presence to say, "Winter's not over yet, babe."

A patch of blue just popped through the drab gray clouds. I'm too cranky at this point to let myself feel optimistic. And as I type this, the clouds are already closing in and carrying it away. My smugness - I was right. - is what makes me feel better.

Admittedly (begrudgingly), what I like about winter is the permission piece to stay indoors. A lot of my household jobs are inside the house. No one's pushing me to get outside and I actually like that.

Spring is all antsy-pants and comes calling like a siren. My reluctance says, "Sure it's nice to go outside. It might feel good, but it pulls me away from my inside chores." Sure, flowers are pretty, but spring also means the beginning of stinging plants and bugs. Bites and blisters and sunburn. 

And so, paradoxically, I resist the coming of spring as much as I do the departure of winter.

It's a weird space.

And so is being in the midst of this cold.

So, today, I invite you all to curl up with hot tea, hot soup, and a good book. I'll be cheering on the Yeti Plunge folks from the coziness and comfort of the BAC (big ass chair) in front of the new BAT (big ass TV) where I'll just let myself be crabby and mopey until I feel better.